interviews, I found myself overlooked and dismissed more often than not.
“Nothing, just my brother donning his cape for work,” I mutter. “As for the head gasket, we had one already in stock, so I didn’t need to order one in the end.”
Nodding, he pivots to turn away but hesitates. “You sure you’re okay? The guys aren’t giving you any shit, are they?” he asks with a frown.
Damn, but I like this guy.
“Nothing I can’t handle. I have five brothers, remember? I’m just not sleeping great. I have stuff going on, but I promise it won’t interfere with my work—”
He waves me off before I can continue. “Reign, you are the best damn mechanic I have and if you tell Dan I said that, you’re fired. I just want to make sure you’re all right. You look exhausted. If you need a friendly shoulder, you know where to find me.” He taps the hood of the Beetle and heads out of my bay, back up to his office above us.
I watch him walk away. Derek is in his early fifties with a handsome weather-worn face, the beginnings of a beer belly, and a gray beard that hits his collar bone. He wears black T-shirts and blue oil-stained jeans every day, and his face is set in a permanent scowl. It’s all bluster. The guy looks like Santa’s evil twin, but inside, he’s a giant teddy bear.
I laugh when I hear him call Jeff a motherfucking cocksucker. Okay, so he’s only a teddy bear with me. I carry on working on the Beetle, shutting out everything else until my stomach rumbles a few hours later.
Cleaning up, I head up to Derek’s office and knock on his door, walking in when he yells for me to enter. Derek holds up his finger for me to wait, so I stand quietly, trying not to listen in as he talks to someone on the phone.
“That’s crazy, but I’m happy for the bastard. He got fucked up the ass with that sentence,” Derek says, making me snort.
Okay, I can’t help but listen. If he didn’t want me to hear, he shouldn’t have told me to come in.
Derek glares at me but continues talking. “I gotta go.” He’s quiet for a minute as the person on the other end of the line says something that makes him roll his eyes. “Fuck you. I’ve seen you whip your cock out, I know how tiny it is.” Derek snorts, then listens some more before growling. “You are such a kiss ass. Have fun sucking your president’s dick,” he replies, hanging up with a laugh.
I look at him with wide eyes. “You know someone in the White House?” I gasp. “You know someone pulling a Monica?” I ask in awe. “I want to be you when I grow up.”
He sighs, exasperated, but I don’t miss the twitch of his lips. “Not that president. I’m talking about the presidents of the Kings of Carnage MC,” he explains, his eyes fixed on mine.
“Ah, I guess that makes more sense. I’m heading over to Jasper’s for lunch. Want me to bring you back a sandwich or something?” I pause when he just stares at me like I’ve surprised him somehow.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” I question when his eyes rove over my face like he’s waiting for something.
“I just told you I know the presidents of a motorcycle club and you didn’t bat an eye,” he tells me.
I stare at him, waiting for him to continue, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Okaaay, so what was I supposed to say? ‘Here, have my panties, please be sure to forward them over?’ Help me out here, Derek,” I sass with my hand on my hip.
He throws his head back and laughs. “Fair enough, Reign. I just assumed with your brothers and daddy doing what they do, you might not be quite as...” He trails off, looking for the right word.
“Awesome, amazing, fabulous?”
“Yes, all of those and modest too, it seems,” he mutters, but he’s still smiling.
I sit in the chair in front of his desk and sigh.
“I don’t judge people by anything other than their actions. If they’re one-percenters, I’m smart enough to steer clear, but otherwise, they’re just a bunch of guys who wear leather and ride bikes,” I says with a shrug.
He narrows his eyes at me. “And what do you know about one-percenters?” he asks, his voice a touch sharper than before.
“I had a slight obsession with Sons of Anarchy.